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A CALIFORNIA 
PILGRIMAGE 



BEING .\X ACCOL'NT OF THE OBSERV.\NCE OF THE 

SIXTY-FIFTH AXNTVERSARY OF BISHOP KIP'S FIRST MISSIONARY 

JOURNEY THROUGH THE SAN JOAQUIN V.ALLEY TOGETHER WITH 

BISHOP KIP'S OWN STORY OF THE EVENT COMMEMOR-^TED 




PUBLISHED AT FRESNO, CALIFORNIA, FOR 

PRIVATE SUBSCRIPTION ONLY' 

MDCCCCXXI 






COPYRIGHT 1921 by LOUIS C. SANFORD 



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CONTENTS 

PACE 

A PILGRIMAGE TO FORT MILLF.R 5 

A DIGEST OF THE SERMON PREACHED ON THE OCCASION . 13 

LETTERS OF THE RT. REV, W. INGRAHAM Kli', I). 1). 

I. LOS ANGELES 20 

11. FORT TFJON 30 

III. THE PLAINS AND FORT MILLER 40 



/ 




A PILGRIMAGE TO FORT MILLER 




IXTY-FIVE years ago the interior of California A 
was an almost unknown desert. Herds of California 
antelope roamed over its untilled plains. Its Pilgrimage 
mountain fastnesses had been penetrated by 
only a few venturesome explorers. The foot- 
hills, between the plains and the peaks, har- 
bored a handful of white settlers who had 



5een drawn by the lure of gold, or the amazing fertility of the 
river bottoms, but for the most part remained the hunting 
ground of bands of redmen, aggregating five thousand souls, 
perhaps, who gathered acorns and pine nuts and speared the 
fish in the shallows of the streams. 

Clashes between the savages and the pioneers occasioned 
the planting of two army posts in this region: Fort Tejon in 
the pass which afforded exit from the San Joaquin Valley 
into Southern California and Fort Miller on the San Joaquin 
River, guarding the approaches to the Southern Mines. Sub- 
stantial adobe buildings were eredted by the government at 
each place, and garrisoned with a company of artillery. When 
the Indians, beaten in a decisive battle, sued for peace, the 

5 



A treaty, to which the Chieftains of the several bands affixed 
California their mark, was ratified on a plateau just above Fort Miller. 
Pilgrimage Between Stockton at the mouth of the Valley, and Los 
Angeles in the South, the only settlements were at these forts. 
Tejon was a stridlly military encampment, but near Fort 
Miller, a village of about one hundred inhabitants established 
itself, and taking the name of Millerton, became the county 
seat of Fresno County. 

In 1855 Major Townsend, of the Arsenal at Benicia, was 
instruded to insped: these army posts, and Bishop Kip embraced 
the opportunity to visit this raw country with him. The story 
of the trip was told in three letters to the Spirit of Missions, 
which are reproduced in the following pages. His journey 
culminated at Fort Miller where he spent ten days, officiated 
on Sunday, appointed a lay reader, and left in the convidion 
that the services of the Church would be continued. Within 
a few months of the Bishop's visit, however, the troops were 
withdrawn from the fort and, except for a brief period during 
the Civil War, it was never occupied again. The infant town 
of Millerton maintained its miniature but adtive existence 
for several years. It was a shanty town to the last, distinguished 
from others only by a substantial court house, now roofless, 
whose granite first story with its barred windows was a neces- 
sary adjundt to the saloons to which the Bishop calls attention. 
One learns with interest that the mason who built it was the 
first to enjoy its grim hospitality. When the Southern Pacific 
Railroad pushed its track through the Valley, the Millerton- 
ians with one consent picked up their lares and fenates and 
migrated to the railroad, twenty miles away, there to plant 
another infant town, now grown to astonishing proportions — 
6 




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Fresno. In a short time a concrete dam will be thrown across A 

the river at Millerton, and the remains of town and fort will California 

be buried in the reservoir of a great irrigation projedl. Pilgrimage 

It seemed to the Convention of San Joaquin that before 
the landmarks should be obliterated some commemoration of 
Bishop Kip's first missionary journey ought to be made on 
the spot where he officiated. Accordingly, at the annual meet- 
ing of Convocation in May, 1920, a committee was appointed, 
consisting of the Very Rev. G. R. E. Macdonald, the Rev. 
G. G. Hoisholt, Mr. L. A. Winchell, Mrs. L. L. Cory, Mr. 
C. H. Miller and Mrs. H. C. Tupper, to arrange for a pilgrim- 
age commemorating the sixty-fifth anniversary of the coming 
of the Church to the San Joaquin Valley. The efficient work 
of the committee was a labor of love. Most of the members 
were the children of pioneers and took a deep personal interest 
in the matter. When Fort Miller was abandoned, the land 
passed into the hands of the Hart family of Fresno, and for 
several years past has been leased as a cattle ranch. Because of 
the vandalism of irresponsible parties, the lessee, Mr. C. P. 
Roche, had been obliged to close his gates to all visitors. But 
he very cordially entered into the spirit of this occasion and 
not only threw open his grounds but his own house, which 
was the identical building in which Bishop Kip officiated; 
and to his courtesy much of the success of the pilgrimage 
was due. 

On the morning of October 20th, under a cloudless sky, 
forty or more cars left St. James Pro-Cathedral, Fresno, with 
guests and representatives of the clergy and laity from all 
parts of the diocese. The procession followed back the trail 
over which fifty years ago the pioneers travelled from the 

9 



A abandoned town. An hour's drive brought the company to the 
California western opening of the quadrangle of the fort where the cars 
Pilgrimage were parked in a double row, much, perhaps, as the military 
wagons were parked in earlier days. The clergy vested, and 
led by a crucifer and followed by a flag bearer who preceded 
the long line of lay people, more than the former population 
of town and fort combined, walked in silence to the upper 
end of the plaza, where, under an old fig tree, facing the adobe 
in which the First Bishop of California held his service, a 
chaplain's portable altar, used in the late war, had been set 
up on a pine table. In the open air, surrounded by a reverent 
group of clergy and laity, the Bishop of San Joaquin celebrated 
the Eucharist, and the Second Bishop of California preached 
from the text of Bishop Kip's first sermon on the coast. The 
congregation, accompanied by no instrument, sang heartily 
the familiar hymns: "O God our help in ages past", "Our 
father's God to Thee", "Jesus shall reign where'er the sun", 
and "For all the saints who from their labors rest." About 
one hundred persons received the sacred elements and at the 
close of the service the procession returned to the cars in the 
same order as at the beginning. 

A little later, the plaza was covered by groups of people 
seated on the ground, who shared with each other the lunch- 
eons they had brought with them, while an energetic com- 
mittee of ladies provided coffee for all who came. 

The day was concluded with a tour of the fort. Mr. L. A. 
Winchell, Vice-President of the Fresno Historical Society, 
whose boyhood had been passed at the fort, led the way from 
point to point, and interested the visitors with reminiscenses 
of earlv davs. 



lo 




P5.0CHSJI0S OF PILGSIMS 




CELEBHATIOX OF THE IV 




"THAT ROCK WAS CHRIST"— i cor. 10-4 





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1 



A Digest of the Sermon preached on the occasion of the Pilgrimage 
to Fort Miller by Rt. Reverend William Ford Nichols, D.D. 
Bishop of California. 

HIS is the text which Bishop Kip seems to A 
have chosen to point the purpose of his work California 
in California. It was the text of his first Pilgrimage 
sermon, preached a few hours after landing 
from the steamer, in Trinity Church, San 
Francisco, January 29, 1854. The sermon 
itself is probably not preserved. But in his 
"Early Days of My Episcopate" the Bishop quotes from it 
that "Commencing now a new era ... it is fitting that these 
words should be at once my present theme and the type of 
what should be my message in days that are to come". We may 
then find in it his message from his pioneering episcopate. 

As we gather here on this pilgrimage, so happily conceived 
by your Bishop and Convocation, to celebrate the sixty-fifth 
anniversary of the first trip of the first Bishop of California 
through the San Joaquin Valley, an almost overwhelming 
rush of associations with such an event bids for the telling. But 

13 



A the time, especially as you are a standing rather than a seated 
California auditory, didtates rigid compression. Otherwise, we might 
Pilgrimage dwell upon the whole of his itinerary through the valley 
after spending Sunday, Odlober 7, 1855, in Los Angeles, as 
he stopped over Sunday, the 14th, at Fort Tejon, near Teha- 
chapi, and came here to Fort Miller on Sunday the 21st. His 
chapter about it in his "Early Days" has all the absorption 
of the adventure for land experience of California that Dana's 
"Two Years Before the Mast" has for the sea. Indeed a 
good heading for it might be "A Month Behind Army Mules" . 
There is much of interest connected with the six members 
of the party, including a son of John C. Calhoun and Major 
E. A. Townsend, whose protedtion on his tour of inspection 
of the Forts was necessary for the Bishop in those days of 
bandits and outlaws, and whose hospitality the Bishop accepted 
as making the visitation possible. 

The customary contrasts between then and now both in 
conditions of the country and the Church, also inevitably 
occur to us, such as the range of the lone sheep herder over 
barren plains then with the happy teeming populations and 
fields of " Wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranate, 
oil, olive and honey," now; such as the one Bishop, ten 
clergy, and less than five hundred communicants then, with 
six Bishops, two hundred and fifty clergy, and twenty-six 
thousand communicants in the State now. But we cannot do 
more than glance along the inviting vistas of such topics, and 
will only try to note and fix in our minds for wholesome 
appropriation, as far as we can, some of the genius of Bishop 
Kip's own theory of service as outlined in the text. 

And for that working theory of his, it will sufiice if without 

14 




^^.^oW^ ^e.-^^-^ 



entering into any general exposition of the text, we simply A 
interpret its symbolism as meaning to him Christ, the succor California 
in the call to service. The rock of difficulty was made to the Pilgrimage 
Israelites of old the well spring of opportunity. The rock that 
depidted the very desolation of the desert of Zin was made to 
gush out with the waters for the parched lips of the people 
that were murmuring. There were signally taught in this two 
great principles of spiritual force. 

First, spiritual force moves in the diredion of the greatest 
resistance. This is a feature distin<St from that charadleristic 
of natural force which exhibits it as moving in the diredlion 
of least resistance. The windings of a river bed or of a canon 
have been determined by some antecedent rivulet that turned 
aside from the obstacle of a twig or a pebble in its first tiny 
course. The lace work around the circumference of a hot 
spring is an illustration of a depositing side by side of particles 
of matter that the gently welling water circles around the 
rim as it moves where there is the least resistance of previous 
deposit. And the rock of resistance swerves the tide through 
a Golden Gate. The contrast of this with spiritual power is a 
determining of real character. The rock of challenge in the 
difficulties and obstacles of life is one for the smiting in a spirit 
of moving in that very diredtion of greatest resistance. Any 
occupation, and any demonstration of free will power shows 
that. The one who always tries to do the easiest thing is bound 
to fail. "The slothful man saith 'There is a lion in the way'. " 
And the one worth his salt has many a time in business and 
inthe home, to attack the problem and the hard proposi- 
tion with all his might, just because it is hard. That spirit 
explains one side of Bishop Kip's pioneering. The old Latin 

17 



A maxim is to the efFedl that "through difficulties we reach the 

California stars". 

Pilgrimage The other great principle of spiritual power that is a veri- 
table twin principle with this and goes with it in adlual 
experience is this: When spiritual power moves in the direc- 
tion of the greatest resistance, it also moves in the direction 
of its greatest assistance. The smiting of the rock by Moses 
started the water supply for thirsty Israel, The rock stroke of 
faith brought the very relief stream for the famished. Face 
hardship and free help. Strike the Sierras and gurgling water- 
ways transform the San Joaquin Valley from a desert to an 
Eden. "Help yourself, and God will help you." That con- 
sciousness of the "Lo I am with you" of his Master, in a 
Presence of greatest help just in the time of greatest test of 
dauntlessness, explains another side of Bishop Kip's pioneer- 
ing. Much we might say of the scholar and apologist for the 
Church in his many and much read writings, much of his 
fine gentleness with his noble bearing, much of notable events 
in which he shared in his episcopate of two score years. But 
his example for us as we gather under this glad sunshine today 
for our Eucharist and recall his visit here in the days of small 
things and big obstacles, seems winningly to contribute 
to our own spheres a most grateful and valuable reflection. 
Individually and colledtively, laymen and clergymen, men 
and women in church and home and state, in which there 
are many tendencies to down-grade, easy going ways, it does 
give us a good deal to think of on the lines of those twin 
principles of spiritual power. First, that it moves in the 
direction of greatest resistance, and second, that it at the same 
time moves in the dire«5lion of greatest assistance. Can we not 
i8 



go away from this memorable scene to attack with fresh inspir- A 

ation just the cares and burdens that each heart knows as its California 

own? Could there be a happier answer to that query which Pilgrimage 

Bishop Kip put to us as "Children of the next generation?" 

He visualized the California Churchmen that were to come 

and asks, "When they are worshipping in splendid buildings 

and members of powerful parishes, how will they regard our 

early struggles?" 

In speaking heartiest congratulations for myself and I am 
sure for all our Church people in California, who have inher- 
ited the fruit of the labors of the first Bishop of California, as 
I do my dear Bishop, to you and your clergy and laity, on this 
days' celebration, may we not call it our memorable Fort 
Miller pilgrimage? And as was the wont of pilgrims of old to 
choose some symbol as a badge, like the scallop shell or the 
Jerusalem cross, may we not wear on our hearts the image of 
a Rock, chiselled with the name Christ; of a smiting the rock; 
of a gushing stream; all to betoken our fresh devotion in using 
for charadler and service those precious principles of the 
pioneer text, 

''That Rock was Christ." 



19 



r^ 'I TM i>iiii 




I. LOS ANGELES 



A 

California 

Pilgrimage 



The following letters of Bishop Kip, containing the story of his 

journey through the San Joaquin Valley in OBober, 18^5, 

appeared serially in '■'■The Spirit of Missions" in February, 

March and April, 18^6. They have never been published in 

any other form and are reprinted here by courtesy of '■'The 

Sp irit of Missi ons' ' 

OR MORE than a year I had been attempting 
to visit the southern part of the State, but 
was never able to do so. The unsettled state 
of the country, infested by the worst class 
of whites and Mexicans, often robbing in 
large parties, rendered it unsafe to travel ex- 
cept with a party thoroughly armed. Such 
a party I could not find until the present time, when Major 
Townsend, U. S. A., being ordered to inspedt Forts Tejon 
and Miller, had to pass through the country, and I availed 
myself of the opportunity. Some other friends having offered 
to join us, for the purpose of seeing the country, we had a 
sufficient number for security. Besides Major T,, my youngest 
son and myself, the party consisted of Hon. Edward Stanley 
20 




(late of N. C), Mr. Jas. E. Calhoun (late of S. C.,), and Mr. A 
J. T. Smith of San Francisco. California 

My objedts were, to spend a Sunday at Los Angeles, where Ptlgrtmage 
the services of the Church had never been performed; another 
Sunday at Fort Tejon, where we have a lay-reader; another 
at Fort Miller, where there has never been a service; and, 
generally, to see what is the charadler of the southern half 
of the State with reference to future prospects of the Church. 

I propose, therefore, in these three successive articles, to 
give an account of our expedition through this section of the 
country. The first will be our visit to Los Angeles; the second, 
our journey to Fort Tejon, and Sunday at that place; and the 
third, our travel over the plains to Fort Miller, and thence 
home to San Francisco. In doing this, I shall not confine 
myself to Church matters, but give such other statements with 
regard to the inhabitants and the physical features of the 
country, as will be likely to convey information desired by 
the many readers of this periodical. 

OBober ly 1855. 

At 4 p. m., we were on board the steamer Republic for San 
Diego. The last time the captain and I voyaged together, we 
were wrecked in the Golden Gate, and I found, therefore, 
that he looked rather suspiciously at me. The fog was rolling 
in when we sailed, and no sooner had we passed the Heads, 
and struck the swell of the ocean, than we plunged into a 
dense bank, in which it was impossible to see for twenty feet. 
The captain says, he never went out in so thick a fog. At 
intervals, all night, the bell was kept ringing, and about three 
in the morning we were, as the captain supposed, off Mon- 
terey. We therefore came to, and as the sea was heavy, we 

21 



L. 



A were left rolling in its trough for the night. At day-break the 
California fog still continued, and we kept slowly drawing in to land 
Pilgrimage until about ten o'clock, when it lifted and we saw the coast, 
so that we could enter the harbor. 

We anchored as usual in the bay, when the boats came off 
and took us to shore. Monterey is unchanged since I had 
service here last year, in August. Everything is as quiet and 
beautiful as ever — a perfect Spanish town — and no apparent 
accession to the American population. I spent part of the time 
we were here in visiting the few churchmen. The last half 
hour on shore was passed with the Hon. Mr. Wall, colleftor 
of the port. Three weeks afterwards he was found a few miles 
from Monterey dead on the road, pierced with seven balls, 
and the gentleman with him also dead, a short distance off. 
They had been attacked by a party of five mounted Mexicans, 
who afterwards effected theirescape.Subsequently, in attempt- 
ing to capture them, Mr. Layton, another of our few church- 
men here, was killed, with two others. I mention this to show 
the necessity there was for my being with an armed party in 
travelling in this southern country. At 3 p. m., we sailed, but 
the sea proved to be rough, and most of us were soon invisible. 
The rest of the day, and through the night, we were pitching 
about in that dreamy, uncomfortable state of being, afraid to 
move for fear of consequences. 

Wednesday, OB.^. 

The sea smoother, but the fog still dense. In the morning 
the captain found he had run too close in shore, and was near 
the spot where, last year, the unfortunate Yankee Blade was 
lost with so great destruction of life. During the morning the 
fog cleared off, and we got on our true course. At i p. m. we 
22 



anchored opposite to Santa Barbara. We went ashore in the -^ 
steamer's boat, at most times a difficult business on account of Calif ornta 
the heavy surf. As there is no wharf, the boat has to be run up Pilgrimage 
on shore, while the passengers watch their chance and jump 
before the wave returns. 

Santa Barbara has entirely its old California population. 
There seem to be hardly any Americans settled there. Every- 
thing, therefore, is primitive and quiet. Their houses are all 
open as if they lived out of doors, and their agricultural imple- 
ments, ploughs and wagons, scattered about, are of the same 
clumsy pattern their fathers used in Mexico a century ago. 
The town is about half a mile from the bay, and may contain 
about twelve hundred inhabitants. 

A mile and a halfback, on the rising ground, at the base of 
the hills, stands the old Mission of Santa Barbara. We walked 
out to it and found the same evidences of decay and delapida- 
tion which charadterize all the California Missions. There is, 
as usual, an extensive range of buildings, once occupied by the 
priest, and terminated at one end by the large Church. Around 
were the remains of their vineyards and gardens with a few 
slight houses, about which some Indians were lounging in the 
sun, the relics of their once numerous bands of converts. 

As we found there was a solitary priest still residing here 
and keeping up the services of the Church, we knocked at his 
door and brought him out — an old man in the coarse gray 
Franciscan dress. Calling an Indian boy, he sent him to unlock 
the church for us. It was like all the other Mission churches, 
with little to recommend it but its size, and having, at the 
entrance, the usual horrible pictures of Purgatory and Paradise. 
In the front of the building was a circular reservoir and a stone 

23 



A fountain, now dry, with considerable carving about it. We 
California found there was a succession of these reservoirs on the moun- 
Pilgrimage tain side, each one of a little higher plane than the others, and 
connected by canals. In this way water was brought fourteen 
miles from its source in the mountains. Now, however, most 
of them are dry, their stone ornaments are broken in pieces, 
and the surrounding country, which the old Padres thus irri- 
gated and made like a garden, is fast relapsing into former 
wildness. It is a lovely spot, however, commanding a wide 
view of the country and bay, and was selected with the usual 
good taste of the Friars. 

We walked back again to the shore, and at 7 p. m., were 
again under way. 

Thursday , 05i. 4. 

About 7 a.m. we anchored opposite San Pedro (420 miles 
trom San Francisco) and the end of our voyage. At the edge 
of the water is a high bank, and from this the plain extends 
far as the eye can reach. There are three adobe houses on the 
bank, and everything looks just as it did when Dana described 
it in his "Two Years Before The Mast," more than 20 years 
ago. We landed in the steamer's boats, and after a breakfast at 
one of the houses, a wagon was produced, to which four half- 
broken California horses were harnessed. The men hung on 
to their heads till the signal for starting was given, when 
they released them, and away they dashed at full gallop, 
our driver occasionally looking in to ask us "on which side 
we wished to fall when we upset." This seemed to be his 
standing joke, and one which I thought it not improbable 
might be realized. 

The plains were covered with thousands of cattle and horses, 
24 



quite reminding us of old California times. In the 25 miles of A 
our journey, there were but two or three shanties, erected by California 
squatters, who were raising cattle, and not a fence or enclosure. Pilgrimage 
except the corrals, about them. We reached Los Angeles in 
less than two hours and a half, having changed horses once on 
the way. As we approached the town there was a marked 
change from the treeless sterility of the plains. We found our- 
selves winding through the midst of vineyards and gardens, 
and on all sides saw the workmen engaged in the manufad:ure 
of wine. 

Friday, 0£i. ^. 
Los Angeles has all the characteristics of an old Spanish 
town. It contains about 5,000 inhabitants, 2,000 of whom 
may be Americans or English. The houses are almost invari- 
ably one story high — a style of building which an occasional 
earthquake has rendered advisable. All around it is a perfect 
garden, luxuriant with every kind of fruit. We visited one vine- 
yard, which, besides a profusion of other fruits, contained 
50,000 vines of a large blue grape. Part of these grapes are 
each week sent to San Francisco by the return steamer from 
San Diego, and part are manufactured into wine. 

Saturday, OB. 6. 
We availed ourselves of this day to see something of the 
surrounding country. We drove out about a dozen miles to the 
San Gabriel Mission. It stands in a most lovely country, but 
like all the others I have visited, is now in a state of decay. 
The single priest remaining here — a Frenchman, speaking no 
English — took us into the Sacristy and showed us the rich 
dresses, heavy with gold embroidery — the remnant of their 

25 



A former glory, and probably brought originally from Spain. We 
California entered the large Church once filled with their Indian con- 
Pilgrimage verts, but now of a size entirely useless. Haifa dozen children 
were on their knees before the chancel, who went on with 
their devotions without seeming to notice our party. The 
eldest was reading aloud from some devotional book, while 
the others at intervals responded. The thick stone walls of the 
Church were hung with the usual wretched pidures. Around 
the Mission is a country which, by the richness of its soil, 
could produce anything. It is well irrigated by little streams 
from the mountains, led through the fields by the labour of 
the old Padres. The only settlers, however, are the lowest class 
of Spanish Californians or Indians, whose little huts are scat- 
tered about, among which the children were running around 
in a perfect state of nudity. In the hands of our Eastern farm- 
ers, this country, with its perpetual summer, would become a 
perfed: Eden. 

About a mile from the Mission is a rich tract of wooded 
country, called the Monte, and celebrated for the luxuriance 
of its crops. Corn grows here to a height which would seem 
fabulous at the east. It is peopled by a wild class of settlers 
from our Western States, who have no religious instruction 
but what is derived from the excitement of an occasional 
Methodist camp-meeting. Besides this "no man careth for 
their souls." 

On our way home we stopped at the vineyard of a gentle- 
man, who is one of those most interested, in Los Angeles, in 
the establishment of the Church, and I describe it to show 
what Providence has done for this country. It is about five 
miles from town, the house standing on a rising ground, from 
26 



the front of which there is a view of many miles of rich land- A 

scape, much of it dotted with oak trees. His men were all busy California 

in the manufadiure of wine, and while some of them were Pilgrimage 

bringing in the rich grapes in baskets, others, standing in the 

vats with their naked feet, were literally "treading the wine 

press." The proprietor receives $8,000 a year from the sale of 

his wine alone. 

In his vineyard, besides the grapes, we found a colledtion of 
fruit which I have never seen equalled in any part of the world. 
There were melons of all kinds, figs, just bursting, delicious 
peaches, pomegranates, tuners (the cactus fruit), pears, Madeira 
nuts, etc., all were about us. Strawberries are raised here 
through the whole year. 

Sunday, OB. y. 

Until within the last six months, there had been no religious 
service of any kind in Los Angeles, except those of the old 
Romish Church. As the preaching there was in Spanish, the 
Americans never went to it, and were without anything to 
mark the coming of Sunday. At that time the Presbyterians 
sent a minister here who officiated in one of the public court- 
rooms, while the Methodists eredled a small building, and 
commenced their services. The latter place had been offered 
to us for our service this day. 

We had service morning and evening — the first time our 
solemn Liturgy was ever heard in this se6tion of the country. 
At the morning service there were about 80 present, and a much 
larger number in the evening. The next day just before leaving 
the place, I baptized the four children of a gentleman, whose 
family, at the east, had been attached to our Church. I found 
several such families in this place, whom I sought out and 

27 



A visited. They are literally " Christ's sheep dispersed abroad in 
California this naughty world." Before leaving, I had an opportunity of 
Pilgrimage conferring with a number of the inhabitants. They told me, 
the persons present had been much impressed with the dignity 
and solemnity of our service — that neither Presbyterianism 
or Methodism could produce any influence on this popu- 
lation — but they had no doubt the Church could be estab- 
lished under very favorable circumstances. They wanted 
something that did not preach Nebraska or Kansas, slavery 
or anti-slavery, and was not identified with any of the isms 
of the day. 

I have no doubt but that they are right, and that \.\v^ system 
of the Church is the only thing which can produce permanent 
impressions. They professed to be ready to give a support to 
a clergyman, as soon as the right kind of a man could be sent. 
It needs a man, however, of zeal and energy, considerable 
pulpit talents and knowledge of the world. Our Church people 
at the east, residing all their lives in a settled state of society, 
have no idea of the difficulty of establishing a congregation 
from the conflidling elements of a population who have not 
heard the Gospel preached for years, who are living under 
no religious restraints, and among whom the religious 
element is yet to be created. It is a work of faith, of time, 
and patience. 

Yet how many there are of our energetic young men to 
whom this would present a noble field! Where they would 
be the first heralds of the Church, and, instead of wearing out 
their lives in a severe and changing climate, they might make 
their home in one of the healthiest places in the world, where 
they would enjoy the blessings of a perpetual summer. It is 
28 



for this reason, perhaps, that the early Spaniards named it the A 

city of Los Angeles (the city of the Angels); and I certainly California 

have never seen a country which more fully realizes Bishop Pilgrimage 
Heber's description — 

. . . "Every prospeSl pleases. 
And only man is "vile." 



29 




II. FORT TEJON 



A 

California 

Pilgrimage 




'JtConday, OB. 8. 
E LEFT Los Angeles for Fort Tejon (about 
loo miles distant), at ii o'clock. Our ve- 
hicle was a large heavy wagon, for no other 
is adapted to the mountain passes through 
which our road leads. It was drawn by four 
mules, and we had a driver well acquainted 
with the country. 
Our driver was also well armed, and the gentlemen with 
me had their rifles and revolvers. It may seem strange to an 
eastern reader to hear of a visitation being made with such 
accompaniments, but here there is no help for it. The country 
through which we are to pass — scarcely settled — is infested 
with California and Mexican outlaws, whose trade is robbery, 
and who will often down a traveler for the sake of the horse 
on which he is mounted. Our friends in Los Angeles warned 
us, when we got out to walk, as we should often be obliged 
to do, not to straggle off, but to keep together. Sometimes 
these banditti attack in groups, as in the murder of Mr. Wall 
which I mentioned in my last number. At other times a single 
Mexican dashes on horseback by the unsuspecting traveler. 

30 



As he passes within 20 feet, suddenly the lariat, coiled up at A 

his saddle bow, is whirled round his head, and ere the traveler California 

can put himself on his defense, its circle descends with unerring Pilgrimage 

precision, and he is hurled, lifeless, from his horse. Then, too, 

in camping out at night, our rest may be invaded by a grizzly 

bear, as they abound on these mountains. They often exceed 

1,600 pounds in weight, and have such tenacity of life that 

an encounter with them is more dangerous than with an 

African lion. 

We had hardly got out on the plains, a couple of miles from 
Los Angeles, when, in descending a gulch, part of the harness 
broke, the mules whirled around, and we were only saved 
from an overturn by the snapping off of the pole. Nothing 
could be done but for our driver to take a couple of mules, 
return to town, and have a new one made. So there we were 
left for some hours with the wagon and other mules. I read 
or looked out over the desolate plains, while my companions 
practiced rifle shooting. About three in the afternoon our 
driver returned, and we made a newset-ofi^. We shortly passed 
through a chain of hills, and then again over the plains for 
seventeen miles. Not a living object was seen for hours, till 
towards evening, the coyote wolves came out, and we saw 
them loping along with their long gallop, often numbers in 
a troop. Night closed, and we drove on some time in darkness, 
till the appearance of a single light, a long distance ahead, 
showed that we were approaching some habitation. After a 
time we reached some enclosures — the first we had seen since 
leaving Los Angeles — and found ourselves at the old Mission 
of San Fernando. The buildings are the most massive I have 
seen. Along the v/hole front runs a corridor, which must be 

31 



A three hundred feet in length, supported by heavy square stone 
California pillars. Some of the apartments are forty feet long, with thick 
Pilgrimage stone walls and stone floors, reminding me of old castellated 
mansions in the south of Europe. We had letters to Don 
Andreas Pico, the present owner of the mission, and as he was 
absent, presented them to his Major-Domo. Two or three 
other travellers arrived late at night from diff^erent directions. 
One of them — a specimen of the varied charadters to be met 
with here — was a Scotchman, a graduate of the University 
of Edinburgh, who had been mining for some years in South 
America, and was now seeking his fortune in this new land. 
He arrived almost exhausted, having had no food or water for 
twenty-four hours. His horse had given out in the mountains, 
and pursuing his way on foot, he suddenly saw a huge grizzly 
in the path before him. Afraid to iire at him, he unslung his 
tin prospering pan, and drawing his ramrod, commenced a 
clatter on the pan, which soon drove the grizzly off. 

We had a regular Spanish supper, olla podrida (beef with 
red peppers and onions), frijolas and tortelas, with native wine. 
At night we were all put in a room 40 feet long, with one bed 
in the corner. This, two of the party occupied, and the rest 
wrapped themselves in their blankets on the stone floor. 

Tuesday, OB. g. 
We were up at dawn, expedting to be off early, but were 
detained an hour for breakfast. Our morning ablutions were 
performed at a little stream in front of the door, which the 
old padres had led there to irrigate the gardens. We availed 
ourselves of this delay to inspedl the buildings. The church is 
like all other Mission churches, with one peculiarity. One 

32 



wall forms one side of a quadrangle, the other three sides of A 
which are buildings about ten feet high. This space was for- California 
merly used for bull-fights, and the spectators were accommo- Pilgrimage 
dated on the roofs of these buildings. There are two very 
extensive vineyards, abounding also with other kinds of fruit. 
The grapes here are said to be of a finer flavour than those of 
Los Angeles. The workmen at the mills were making wine 
at the time. 

We had a Spanish breakfast exadtly similar to our supper 
the night before. Upon offering to pay the Major Domo, he 
refused to receive anything. We then urged him to take a 
present for himself, but he said, "No, when strangers come 
along, if they make me a present, I receive it, but not from 
the friends of Don Andreas." And all this was announced with 
the highest Castilian manner. 

It was seven o'clock before we left the Mission, and after 
proceeding a few miles, reached the San Fernando Pass, where 
the road had been cut through a deep defile in the mountains. 
Here we had to get out and walk, and the scenery was the 
wildest I have seen since I crossed the Alps, How our heavy 
wagon was to get over was a marvel to us. At one place was a 
ledge of rocks almost perpendicular, about four feet high, 
down which it plunged, as if it would turn over and crush the 
mules, while we involuntarily held our breath as we looked 
on. In the pass, a couple of Indians on horseback met us as we 
were walking, and were loud in their demands for money, till 
some one of the gentlemen allowed their arms to be seen, 
when their tone was moderated considerably. Had my com- 
panions been unarmed, it was evident they would have had 
no scruples about enforcing their wishes. 

33 



A After passing the hills our course for twenty-two miles was 
California over a level plain, at the termination of which we entered. 
Pilgrimage what was stated to be the most dangerous part of our journey 
a canon, or winding defile through the mountains, about 
seventeen miles long. It is a narrow pass, hemmed in on both 
sides by the high mountains, often allowing scarcely room for 
the wagon to pass. A small stream flows through it, which is 
crossed by the road more than eighty times during the seven- 
teen miles. In addition to its being the resort of grizzlies, its 
fastnesses are the hiding-places of the American or Mexican 
desperadoes who are such a scourge to this part of the country. 

We stopped just at its entrance, near the only house there 
is for twenty miles in any direction, to take lunch and rest 
our mules. A short time before, this house had become so 
notorious a resort for robbers, that the people from Los Angeles 
captured its inmates — two Americans and four Mexicans — 
and hung them by lynch law. As thespring at which we stopped 
was only a hundred yards distant, we noticed that the house 
had a new set of occupants, but did not learn whether its 
charadler had improved. 

It was about noon that we entered the defile, the branches 
of trees often on both sides sweeping against our wagon, and 
long before sunset involving us in twilight. Many parts of it 
reminded me of our ride through the mountains on the Isth- 
mus, from Crucis to Panama. Through the whole day we saw 
no human being, and did not wish to, as they probably would 
not be of the class we would like to meet. So on our mules 
dragged the heavy wagon, over the rocks and through the 
streams, while most of the way we walked. 

We had intended to extricate ourselves from the canon 

34 



before daylight ended, so as to encamp out on the open plain A 
beyond. But when night came, we were still five miles from California 
the end, our mules tired out and it rapidly becoming too dark Pilgrimage 
to thread our way through the ravines. We, therefore, turned 
aside to a level spot which we reached, with the little stream 
on one side and high rocks behind us. A fallen tree furnished 
an abundance of wood for our fire, which was supplied with 
large logs to last through the night. Here our basket of pro- 
visions was opened, tea boiled, and reclining about the fire 
we had our evening meal. Then came the preparations for 
the night. Two of the party slept in the wagon, while the 
rest lay around the fire wrapped in their blankets. Rifles were 
fresh capped, revolvers examined, and each slept with his 
arms within reach. No regular watch was kept, as some one 
was up every hour to replenish the fire, and the mules pick- 
eted around would prove the best sentinels to give notice of 
the approach of men or wild beasts. 

Wednesday, OB. lO. 

We were up before daybreak, and on our way as soon as it 
was light enough to see the path. We were obliged to walk 
the greater part of the five miles through the ravine. At last 
we emerged into an open valley, covered here and there with 
oaks. In this we found a company of Californians camping 
with several hundred cattle, which were scattered over several 
miles and which they were driving to the upper country to sell. 

Where the valley expands into the wide plains, Elizabeth 
Lake was pointed out to us at a distance. It is about half a 
mile long, and lay glittering in the sunlight, exadlly like 
snow of the most dazzling whiteness. On coming near we 
found it was without a drop of water, but filled with a deposit 

35 



A of saleratus. Not far off was the canvas hut of a settler, the 
California only house we were to pass in our day's journey, near which 
Pilgrimage lay the remains of three bears he had lassoed and killed. 

The plains here are about fifteen miles in width. As the 
day advanced it became intensely hot ; yet we were obliged to 
push on until we could reach some water to prepare our break- 
fast and refresh our mules. About half past lo o'clock, after 
traveling five hours, we reached a little spring, at which we 
were obliged to stop, as there is no water for the next fourteen 
miles. By damming it up we obtained enough for our wants. 
There was, however, no shade and no tree within miles of us. 
We all scattered, therefore, about the plain to pick up sticks, 
and the wagon was arranged so as to get as much shade as pos- 
sible on one side of it. Into this we crowded, and our fire was 
built to prepare for breakfast. Some of our party were almost 
exhausted, but we found that hot tea, equally with sleep, 
merited the praise of being 

^^tired nature' s sweet restorer." 

It was a long hot drive all day over the plains. There was no 
timber, except in one place, for a couple of miles; the plain 
was covered with a kind of palm. We saw numerous bands of 
antelopes, but, frightened by our wagon, they kept at a dis- 
tance. There was a dreary uniformity in our prosped: — the same 
flat, scorched prairie. In one place we descended for a dozen 
feet, and passed for half a mile over the dry sandy bed of what 
was once a wide river. We saw no one, except a train of four or 
five wagons containing a party of Mormons going from Salt 
Lake to their settlement of San Bernardino, in the southern 
part of the state. 

36 



In the middle of the afternoon we reached the only water to A 
be found for many miles. It is a small spring of which an Irish- California 
man has taken possession, as it is the place where travelers are Pilgrimage 
obliged to stop. He has a canvas house of one room, and sup- 
ports himself by his gun and by furnishing provisions to parties 
passing over the plains, A pile of antelope skins lying near the 
house gave an intimation of what our fare was to be, and we 
soon had a dinner of the meat cooked for us out in the open 
air. We camped out near his house. 

In the evening a man arrived on horseback with another led 
horse. He proved to be a Mormon belonging to a party camped 
twelve miles distant in the hills, by whom he had been sent 
down for provisions. He was a perfedt specimen of the wild, 
reckless, swearing class of men who infest this country, per- 
fectly careless of his own life and that of every one else. Late 
at night, to our relief, he took his departure, and we heard him 
shouting and singing as he went up through the hills, "making 
night hideous" with his ribaldry. 

Thursday, OB. ii. 

The stars were shining when we arose, and as there is no 
dressing to be done, it does not take us long to prepare for our 
journey. Before we set out, "Irish John" cooked a breakfast 
for us out of doors. In a few miles the plains ended, and we 
reached the hills, and then wound through valleys dotted with 
old oak trees, and occasionally a little lake. We saw, as the day 
before, frequent bands of antelopes. About noon we reached 
Tejon Pass, a valley hemmed in by mountains, and having at 
its entrance a large dry lake of saleratus glittering in the sun. 
The wind wafted up the loose powder from the surface, and it 
hung over it like a white cloud. The valley here is several miles 

37 



A wide, and as we drove up we saw on the soft earth, through the 

California whole length of our way, the tracks of large grizzlies who had 

Pilgrimage preceded us. As we approached the military post our driver 

gave an increased crack to his whip and urged the tired mules 

to a spasmodic effort as we dashed up to Captain G.'s quarters, 

where he was ready to receive us. 

The fort at theTejon is on a little plain, entirely surrounded 
by high mountains, which give it a confined appearance. It is, 
however, a beautiful place, surrounded by oak trees. Under 
one of these, which stands on the parade ground, in 1837, 
Peter LaBec, an old hunter, was killed by a bear, and his com- 
panions buried him at its foot. They then stripped the bark for 
some three feet from the trunk of the tree and carved on it an 
inscription, surmounted by a cross, which remains to this day, 
though the bark is beginning to grow over it on all sides. 

The barracks — handsome adobe buildings — are being eredled 
around the sides of the parade ground. None of them are yet 
finished, and the soldiers were living in tents. The officers, too, 
were living in canvas houses, except one who had a small adobe 
building which is soon to be demolished. There are ordi- 
narily about six officers and one hundred and twenty dragoons 
stationed here, besides the numerous civilians who are store- 
keepers and employees of the post. About a dozen of the 
dragoons are kept seventeen miles off, on the Reservation, to 
watch the Indians. 

Sunday, 051. 14. 

There is no service of the Church within two hundred and 
fifty miles of this place, nor any religious service of any kind 
nearer than Los Angeles. It happens, however, that all the 
officers at this post are Churchmen — several are communi- 

38 



cants — and two of them have their families here. One of them A 
was, therefore, some months ago, licensed to adl as lay-reader, California 
and our service has been regularly performed. My objedl in Pilgrimage 
spending this Sunday here was, by myself holding service, to 
give in the minds of the men a sandtion to that of the lay- 
reader — to administer the Holy Communion, which some of 
them have had no opportunity of receiving since they left the 
Eastern States — and also to baptize several children, whose 
families may remain for several years at this secluded post, with- 
out the opportunity of seeing a clergyman. 

We had service in a large room of the unfinished barracks. 
All the officers and quite a number of the men attended. At the 
Communion there were seven recipients, besides the members 
of our own party. At noon I baptized at one of the officer's 
quarters, his child, which could not be brought out to service; 
and after the second lesson, in the afternoon baptized the child 
of another officer. In the evening I visited the family of a 
soldier who had died that day. He was buried early the next 
morning, his comrades firing their volleys over his remains, 
after I had read the burial service at the grave. 

Thus ended my Sunday at this dragoon station. In addition 
to the pleasantness of our visit from the warm hospitality we 
received from the officers, I felt myself compensated for the 
toil and labor of reaching here, by the opportunity afforded of 
administering the solemn sacraments of our Church where 
they had never been witnessed before, and for the benefit of 
those who otherwise might not receive them from other hands 
for years. 



39 




III. THE PLAINS AND FORT MILLER 



A 

California 

Pilgrimage 




Monday, OB. l^. 
BOUT 1 1 o'clock we took leave of our hos- 
pitable hosts, several of the officers accom- 
panying us on horseback for our first day's 
ride. We had the same driver and heavy 
wagon as before, with six mules, a guide on 
horseback and two saddle horses, so that 
some of us could always ride, and thus relieve 
ourselves and also lighten the wagon of our weight. 

For the first few miles through the pass of the mountains 
the scenery was exceedingly wild, and the descent so great that 
we had to walk most of the way. The road descends 2,400 
feet in five miles. From the mountain side we had a view of 
the plain stretching as far as the eye could reach, and in the 
distance, glancing in the sunlight, the waters of Kern Lake. 
Just as we entered on the plain we passed a small Indian village 
of about 40 persons. 

We skirted the mountains about 1 2 miles, when we arrived 
at the Indian Reservation. Here we were obliged to stop for 
the rest of the day, as Major Townsend is ordered to investigate 
40 




FORT MILLER, FRESNO COUNTY 




APPROACH OVER THE OLD MILITARY ROAD 



its condition. There is here a tract of 30,000 acres set apart by A 
the Government for the Indians, but at present there are some- California 
what less than 300 residing on it. At this season, however, the Pilgrimage 
wild Indians from themountainscomedowntounitewiththem 
in holding their annual Dog Feast, so that there are about i ,000 
present. We passed them in groups, almost in a state of nudity, 
washing their clothes by the little stream which flows through 
the Reserve, and on reaching their grand encampment stopped 
and walked through it. Their lodges were arranged in a circle, 
all opening inwardly. They were lounging in the shade, roast- 
ing dogs and eating, while the greater part of those otherwise 
employed were gambling. The women particularly seemed to 
be so intensely occupied this way that they could scarcely look 
up to us. They sat in circles on the ground, and the favorite 
game was one with sticks, a foot long, thrown about like jack- 
straws. 

We drove on about four miles to the residence of the Indian 
agent. He has a plain house, with a hall and room on each side, 
where he lives with eight or ten employees. A short distance 
from the house, on a little knoll, is the grave of one of his men 
killed a month before by a grizzly. 

At dark we determined to visit the Indian camp to witness 
some of their ceremonies. Horses were provided for us by the 
agent, under whose guidance we went. There was just moon 
enough to show the trails as we galloped over the prairies, and 
long before we reached the camp we heard the sound of the 
Indian drums. We found them all very busy, fires lighted in all 
direftions, and music, such as it was, sounding about. Some of 
the party tried dog's meat, but I was willing to take their report 
of it. This feast was in honor of the dead of the past year, and 

43 



A on one day during its continuance they bury all the efFedts and 

California clothes of the departed. 

Pilgrimage There was to be a war dance late in the evening by some of 
the wild Indians, which was to take place outside of the camp. 
A large fire was made, and we waited for an hour, during which 
time some of the more civilized Indians, who had been at one 
time at the old Missions, were singing songs. It was curious, 
however, to hear in how nasal a tone this was done, sounding 
very much like the intoning of the service by the old padres, 
from whom they had undoubtedly caught it. Tired out with 
waiting, I went into an Indian lodge near and threw myself 
down to rest. As I lay there, looking up to the roof above me, 
made of tula reeds, the only light being the glare of the fire 
before the opening of the lodge, and listening to the discordant 
singing of the Indians without, I could not help thinking how 
strange it was to find myself in such a situation in this wild 
country of the Pacific coast. 

Hearing at last that the war party had finished painting and 
were nearly ready, we walked out in search of them. We found 
them grouped around the dim embers of a fire, so that they 
were hardly distinguishable, singing in a low droning tone, as 
if preparing their spirits for the task. After a time they rose, 
and repairing to where the large fire had been built, ranged 
themselves before it. The musicians, half a dozen in number, 
seated on the ground on the other side, began their playing, a 
rude chant, in which the dancers joined, accompanied by 
the noise of sticks struck together. The dancers were entirely 
naked, except a slight girdle round the loins, with a necklace of 
bear's claws, and a tiara of feathers on their heads. Their bodies 
were entirely painted, while their leader had a horizontal line 

44 



drawn across his face just below the nose, the upper half of the ^ 
face being painted white and the lower half black, through California 
which his teeth gleamed like those of a wolf. They had the Pilgrimage 
appearance of demons more than anything else. 

They commenced the dance, which was most violent in its 
character, so that the perspiration rolled down from off them 
in streams. It was a commemoration of the dead, and as those 
who died in battle were mentioned in succession, the leader 
went through the representation of their deaths, throwing 
himself down on the ground and acting the last scene with its 
struggles and exhaustion. Sometimes he threw himself into the 
precise attitude of the antique statue, "The Dying Gladiator," 
at Rome. As the dance went on, they seemed to work them- 
selves up into an intense excitement, and would continue it, 
we were told, till morning. I confess I was somewhat relieved 
when late at night the signal was made for our party to dis- 
engage themselves from the crowd of Indians and get without 
the camp preparatory to our return. It was clear starlight, and 
there was something exhilarating in our ride, as for about an 
hour we followed the guidance of the agent over what seemed 
to us the pathless prairie. 

Can anything be done for the spiritual benefit of these In- 
dians ? It is difficult to tell, as they are so migratory in their 
habits, seldom remaining together in large bodies for any 
length of time. The old padres succeeded with them because 
there was no outside influence to oppose their schemes. There 
is every variety of Indian tribe in this region, from the warlike 
Indians at the north and on the borders of Mexico, down to the 
Digger Indians, who seem to live a mere degraded animal life. 
Still, the experiment might be tried on one of the northern 

45 



A Reservations, where a better class of Indians are colledled. In- 
California tellecStually these Indians seem to be exceedingly bright, and 
Pilgrimage children taken into families as servants learn the English lan- 
guage w^ith great facility. 

The Indian agent entertained us to the best of his ability, 
giving one room in which there was a bed to myself and son, 
and the only other room to the rest of our party, who slept on 
the floor wrapped in their blankets. 

Tuesday, 0£l. i6. 

We were up by daylight, and after washing at a little stream 
near the house, had breakfast furnished us at the agent's. After 
driving about six miles, we came to some springs called "The 
Sinks," where we found two men who had camped during the 
night. This was the last water we were to see for more than 30 
miles, and here, too, we took leave of all evidences of human 
lifefor therestof theday. Before us stretched a plain, scorched, 
dry, and apparently boundless, without a tree for miles. At a 
distance, during the earlier part of the day, we saw a lake, the 
borders of which seemed lined with bands of antelopes. 

By mid-day the sun was burning hot, and we dragged over 
wastes of sand till our animals drooped, and we ourselves were 
almost exhausted. At noon we halted a few minutes to rest, 
though in the glare of the sun, and without leaving our wagon 
took such lunch as our stores afforded. Then on — on we wiled 
for the rest of the day. We met but one person — a Mexican on 
horseback. In the afternoon the ground became rolling, and 
as we dragged up each knoll we hoped to see some traces of the 
promised river, but before us was only a new succession of the 
same barren mounds. Our guide and driver began an animated 
discussion about the diredtion of the different trails, until we 
46 



feared that they had mistaken their way. At length Major A 
Townsend, riding forward to the crown of one of the mounds, California 
announced that he saw the river below. We found it was in a Pilgrimage 
deep valley, with a line of trees through it showing the presence 
of water. We left the wagon to let it drive down the precipi- 
tous bank, and then walked half a mile to the Kern River, 
having traveled 33 miles without water. 

The Kern River is about 100 feet broad, from two to six 
feet deep, and flowing with a beautifully clear stream. On the 
bank we found a canvas shantee belonging to a man who has 
settled himself here and constructed a scow with which, in the 
rainy season when the river is high, he ferries over any chance 
passengers. He warned us to be on our guard, as the Mexicans, 
some fifty miles above, having been driven out by the inhabi- 
tants, were dispersed over the country, and had committed a 
number of murders. 

We crossed the river and camped in a grove of cottonwoods 
and willows, perfectly tired out. Never was the sight of water 
so grateful to us, and we now could realize the meaning of the 
Eastern description — "a barren and dry land where no water 
is." A good bath in the river, however, refreshed us, and after 
building our fire and having supper, we spent a pleasant even- 
ing reclining on our blankets about the burning logs. 

Wednesday^ October i J. 
We were awakened before dawn by the howling of the 
coyotes about us, and after a few hurried mouthfuls were off" 
before six. Late at night we had seen on the opposite side of 
the river a fire, showing that some others had camped there. 
At daylight they crossed, and we found they were two men on 

47 



A horseback from the upper mines, crossing the country to Kern 

California River mines. On the plains they had taken the wrong trail 

Pilgrimage and wandered about all day, almost dying of exhaustion. As 

one of them expressed it, "starved to death for want of water." 

Providentially, late at night they struck the Kern River. 

After leaving the grove by the river, we entered at once 
among the most desolate hills. Not a sign of herbage was seen 
in them — not enough to attract a bee. We met with no evi- 
dences of animal life through the whole morning, except a 
large gray wolf, which was stealing away between the hills. 
As one of our party said, it was "Sahara in mountains." The 
road (if such it could be called) was an old Indian trail wind- 
ing through the defiles between these barren hills, and so little 
worn that most of the time we were obliged to walk to avoid 
the steep pitches. As the day advanced the heat became almost 
suffocating, as the hills excluded the air, while the refledtion 
of the sun from their sandy sides made an intolerable glare. 

Our guide informed us that at noon we should reach a camp- 
ing ground where there was water. At that time we saw indeed 
a line of green trees in one of the valleys, showing a water 
course, but on reaching it we found it almost entirely dry. 
There were two springs near it, both so strongly impregnated 
with sulphur that we could not drink of them, so that we had 
to content ourselves with the hope of reaching White River in 
the evening. We saw, however, numerous places around where 
stakes had been driven into the ground for picketing animals, 
showing that it had been frequently used as a camping ground. 

The journey of the afternoon was as oppressive as that of the 
morning. We were constantly passing deep gulches and over 
hills where we had to get out and walk. How often, when we 
48 



had taken refuge behind some rock against the heat of the sun, -^ 

did we realize the force of that Scripture imagery — "Like the California 

shadow of a great rock in a weary land !" Towards evening a Pilgrimage 

large grizzly was seen about a mile from us, among the hills. 

The two gentlemen who were on horseback, together with a 

third, mounted on our guide's horse, went off with their rifles 

to attack him, approaching from three points so as to distract 

his attention, as he would probably make a rush at the first one 

who fired. But Bruin, probably alarmed by seeing so many 

approaching, galloped over the hill and took refuge in a ravine, 

where he was lost to them. 

At sunset we saw at a distance in the valley the line of green 
trees which marked the course of White River. Our exhausted 
animals seemed to toil on with new vigor, but our disappoint- 
ment cannot easily be described when we found that it was en- 
tirely dry — nothing but a bed of shining sand. We had traveled 
33 miles, equal to 53 miles of ordinary traveling. We crossed 
on the dry bed, and ranging up the bank for some distance, 
came to the canvas house of a squatter, near whom we camped 
in a grove of oaks. He had dug a shallow well, which was not 
a spring, but water oozed up through the earth, and was as 
muddy, therefore, as the usual water of our gutters. We pro- 
cured enough, however, to make some tea, though there was 
none for our poor animals after their hot day's work, and after 
a hasty meal were soon asleep around our fire. 

Thursday, OBober 18. 
We were stirring long before dawn, and ofi^as soon as it was 
light enough to harness, it being necessary to push on as fast 
as possible to procure water. The country was of the same 

49 



A charad:er as yesterday, sandy and desolate. When going up a 
California hill, we discovered that one of the hind wheels was just coming 
Pilgrimage off. The lynch-pin was gone, and we were detained while our 
guide rode back some miles to look for it. His search, however, 
was vain, and one had to be made from wood, though a poor 
substitute for the iron one, and needing constant watching. 
About lo o'clock we found a spring among the hills, sur- 
rounded by a clump of willows, where, by building a dam 
across the little trickling stream, we procured enough for our 
breakfast and to refresh our wearied animals. After leaving 
this spot, from the side of a hill we had a striking view of the 
Great Tulare Valley. It stretched as far as the horizon, one 
unbroken, scorched, and yellow waste, with what seemed a 
single thread of green running through it, showing the course 
of Deep Creek. 

A few miles on we met a wretched lookingobjedl travelingon 
foot on his way from the mines. He seemed almost exhausted, 
and we relieved his wants, as far as we could, by giving him 
something to eat and drink, and directing him where he could 
find the spring we had left. A couple of hours afterwards we 
met the sheriff with an assistant, who informed us he had been 
breaking up a band of robbers, some of whom had been taken, 
while others were still lurking within thickets on Tulare 
River, where we expedted to encamp. 

At noon we reached Three Creeks, but found it dry, A squat- 
ter by the river had, however, dug some pits, from which we 
procured a small supply of water. We passed through the same 
kind of country till the middle of the afternoon, when we saw 
at a distance the trees on the banks of Tulare River. We crossed 
it and camped in a grove of oaks. After a refreshing bath in its 

50 



beautiful clear waters, we had a visit from a Mr. G — , who had A 

settled on the river near our camping ground. He invited us to California 

tea, which we were most happy to accept, and we shall long Pilgrimage 

remember the hospitality of these good people. Their house 

was but a single room, with a couple of beds in the corners, but 

they gave us a capital tea, at which they presided with a dignity 

not often seen in "the states". We spent an hour after tea with 

our host, during which time he entertained us with adventures 

in the wilderness and stories of grizzlies attacking parties in the 

thickets by the river where we had camped. We probably that 

night were a little more careful than usual in keeping our fire 

replenished. 

Friday, OBober ig. 

On our way, as usual, by daybreak. I awoke with a feeling 
of illness which increased during our drive of 19 miles over a 
scorched plain. We at length entered an oak forest of the most 
splendid trees, having in it here and there small settlements of 
Indians, who were busily engaged in collecting their winter 
store of acorns. After going through this for nine miles we 
came to a stream called "Four Creeks" which we crossed and 
camped beyond among the oaks. It was but little past noon, but 
the next water being i 8 miles on, it was too far for our mules to 
go that day. The woods here seemed to be swarming with 
Indians, so that we are obliged to keep a stridl watch on our 
wagon. 

My illness having increased, I lay down on the hard boards 
of the wagon, where I remained till sundown, thinking, in case 
I was to be really ill, what should I do? — two days' journey 
fromany settlement orphysician. Life in the wilderness answers 
in perfedl health, but not in sickness. Towards evening, feeling 

51 



A better, probably from rest and abstinence, I crossed the river to 
California a shell of a house which a squatter had eredted on the opposite 
Pilgrimage side, where we procured tea. The woman who prepared it for 
us was suffering from fever and ague, which is common on all 
these river bottoms. Her wretched appearance did not impress 
us favorably with regard to our night's rest in the open air in 
this malarious atmosphere. 

Saturday, OBober 20. 

Up before light, and drove about nine miles through the 
oaks to a solitary house where we procured breakfast. The 
house consisted of but one room, three of the corners of which 
were occupied by beds. The next i8 miles were over the hot 
plains — then about seven miles through the forest again, crossing 
several dry river beds filled with cobble stones, till late in the 
afternoon we reached Kings River, a bright stream about 200 
feet wide. We forded it, and found on the opposite side a beau- 
tiful plateau covered with oaks. Two teamsters had camped 
there with their mules, who told us they were obliged to cross 
the plains we had been over, in the night to avoid the excessive 
heat. There were large bodies of Indians on the banks, whom 
we visited after our camping was arranged. They employed 
themselves in fishing and hunting, being exceedingly skillful 
with the bow and arrow. 

Being out ofprovisions, we purchased some fish of the Indians, 
while Maj or To wnsend and our guide forded the river on horse- 
back, and riding up some distance came to a settler's house, 
where they bought some chickens and eggs. The fallen trees 
around us furnished an abundant supply of fuel for our cooking 
and fires through the night. 

We had expedted this night to have reached Fort Miller, 

52 



but found ourselves 30 miles distant. We had been mistaken in A 
our calculations from the necessity of arranging our journeys California 
each day with regard to the supply of water. Stay where we Pilgrimage 
were, however, over Sunday, we could not. We had no pro- 
visions, and the air was so malarious, that we found the Indians 
about us, though born on the spot, were decreasing in numbers 
through the effects of the fever and ague. Nothing remained 
for us, therefore, but to push on next morning, and reach Fort 
Miller as early as possible, that a portion of the day at least 
might be devoted to its proper objects. 

Sunday, OBober 2lst. 

We were up this morning by four o'clock, long before the 
faintest streak of dawn appeared in the east. After a hasty break- 
fast of sea-biscuit and hard-boiled eggs, we set off while it was 
so dark that we could not see the trail through the open woods, 
but were obliged for some miles to trust to the sagacity of the 
mules, leaving them to walk and find the path for themselves. 
After a few miles we emerged from the oak openings, when 
the rest of our way was, as usual, over the dusty, scorched plains. 
Between 10 and 1 1 o'clock we reached the hills overlooking 
Fort Miller, and walked on, leaving the heavy wagon to plunge 
down the steep hill side as it best could. We passed through 
the infant town of Millerton, on the San Joaquin River, about 
half a mile from the fort. It consists of some 20 houses, most of 
them of canvas, two or three being shops, and the majority of 
the rest drinking saloons and billiard rooms. The population 
is Mexican, or the lowest class of whites, and on this day they 
seemed to be given up entirely to dissipation. 

The fort is situated on a plateau overlooking the town and 

53 



A river. It is an artillery fort, and at this time had about 70 men 
California stationed here. The service of our Church had never been per- 
Pilgrimage formed here, nor had there been anything to mark the day 
when Sunday came. Arrangements were soon made after our 
arrival for the service in the evening, and a broad hall in one of 
the buildings devoted to the officers was cleared for that pur- 
pose. The officers attended and many of the soldiers, and after 
the Second Lesson I baptized the child of one of the privates. 
A beginning having thus been made, before I left the fort I 
licensed Dr. M — , the surgeon, a communicant of our Church, 
to aft as lay-reader, and arrangements were made for having 
the service regularly every Sunday. 

We remained at the post for ten days, resting from the fatigue 
of our journey and enjoying the open hospitality of the officers. 
Our arrangements were made to leave on Wednesday, leaving 
behind Major T., whose professional duties required him to 
remain for a few days, and one other of our party. Here, too, 
we left our wagon, for a small stage had recently penetrated as 
far as Fort Miller, It had only made two trips when we had 
occasion to employ it. It runs to Snelling's — about 70 miles — 
where we are in the region of the regular stage routes. 

It came for us before daylight, and taking leave of our hos- 
pitable entertainers, we commenced our journey on the banks 
of the San Joaquin. About nine o'clock we stopped at a solitary 
house intended for teamsters, where for one dollar each we had 
a breakfast, but everything was so filthy that we could hardly 
eat even after our long morning ride. The drive for the whole 
day was over the same kind of country as during the preceding 
week — desolate plains varied with an occasional hill, and now 
and then a cattle ranch. We drove on through the whole route 

54 



without stopping, except to change horses, until night, when A 

we reached Snelling's Tavern, a central point from which California 

stages go up through Mariposa county. Pilgrimage 

The next morning the stage started at four o'clock, fortu- 
nately bright moonlight, which lasted till daylight took its 
place. We had half a dozen passengers, including a Chinese. 
After fording Stanislaus River we had another wretchedly 
filthy breakfast at a tavern on its banks. The country we passed 
through began now to show signs of cultivation. Oak trees are 
scattered park-like through it, and we passed rich farms, in- 
creasing as we approached Stockton. We reached there at 
4 p. m., just in time for the boat, and the next morning awoke 
at the wharf in San Francisco, after being absent about a month. 

Thanks to a kind providence, after all the dangers we had 
passed4:hrough, we reached home without a single accident, or 
any case of illness among our party. I was able to accomplish 
all I designed. Knowing the state of things at Los Angeles, I 
can now speak understandingly to any clergyman who can go 
there, and I trust before next spring some such will be pro- 
vided. Forts Tejon and Miller will have the services of the 
Church regularly through their lay-readers, and need not again 
be visited for a long while. The remainder of the country we 
have passed through cannot evidently be settled for many years, 
and I shall probably, therefore, never again be obliged to travel 
the same route we did on this occasion. 



SS 



COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS A 

Very Rev. G. R. E. MacDonald, Chairman Calif orma 

Mrs.L. L. Cory Pilgrimage 

*Rev. George Greirsen Hoisholt 
Mr. Charles H. Miller 
Mrs. H. C. Tupper 
Mr. L. a. Winchell 



CLERGY {Vested) 

Rt. Rev. Louis C. Sanford, D. D. 

Bishop of San Joaquin 
Rt. Rev. Wm. Ford Nichols, D. D. 

Bishop of California 
Rev. W. B. Belliss, Lindsay 
Rev. a. Carswell, Madera 
Rev. L. W. Doud, Ph. D. 
Rev. David Todd Gillmor, Hanford 
Rev. F. D. Graves, Reedley 
Rev. a. L. Walters, Tulare 
Rev. L. a. Wood, Porterville 



LAYMEN {Fested) 

Mr. Wm. C. Harvey, Crucifer 

Mr. Haydn Arrowsmith, Flag Bearer 



OTHER CLERGY 

Rev. T. T. Giffen 

Rev. Cornelius Richert 

Rabbi Alexander Segel 

*Absent 

6i 



A 

California ., „ a 

'' Mrs. Haydn Arrowsmith 

Pilgrimage Mr. Charles R. Barnard 
Mr. Robert R. Barnard 
Mr. B. L. Barney, Hanford 
Mrs. W. B. Belliss, Lindsay 
Mrs. N. J. Blayney 
Mrs. Alfred Braverman 
Mrs. F. R. Burchill, Lindsay 
Mrs. J. H. Burnett 
Mrs. Marian Camp 
Mrs. Sarah Camp, San Francisco 
Mrs. Edward Copland 
Mrs. M. p. Copland 
Mr. George R. Couper, Madera 
Mrs. George R. Couper, Madera 
Mrs. William Davidson, Porterville 
Mrs. Milton Bearing 
Mrs. Kate B. Everett, Tulare 
Mrs. C. Evins 
Miss Clark Farley 
Mrs. G. M. Fickle, Reedley 
Mrs. W. a. Fisher 
Mrs. Jules Fontaine 
Mrs. M. L. French, Selma 
Mrs. Constance Ganse, Tulare 
Mrs. T. T. Giffen 
Miss Alice Giffen 
Miss Marian Giffen 
Mrs. J. W. Gillingham, Reedley 
Mrs. F. D. Graves, Reedley 
Miss Sarah Graves, Reedley 
Mrs. VVeltha Hall, Porterville 
Mr. Thomas Harrison, Hanford 
Mrs. Wm. C. Harvey 
Mrs. G. a. Hatfield 
Mr. R. J. Heathcote, Hanford 
Mrs. Frank Helm 
Mrs. George Helm 

62 



LAY PILGRIMS 



Mrs. Annie R. Hewitt 

Mr. J. D. Hirschler, Reedley 

Mrs. J. D. Hirschler, Reedley 

Mrs. Edward C. Hopkins, Porterville 

Master Faris Melvin Humphreys 

Mrs. Georgia Cox Ingram, Oilfields 

Mrs. E. B. Isham, Porterville 

Mrs. Wilhelmina Jensen, Parlier 

Mr. Vigco Krag, Parlier 

Mrs. M. L. Lechlider 

Mr. O. D. Lyon, Reedley 

Mrs. O. D. Lyon, Reedley 

Mrs. G. R. E. MacDonald 

Master Bruce Manson 

Mrs. Guy Manson 

Mr. W. T. Mattingly 

Mr. J. C. McCubbin 

Mrs. W. J. McNulty 

Miss Luella Melvin 

Mrs. Charles H. Miller 

Mrs. S. J. Miller 

Mrs. Fannie B. Minor 

Miss Margaret Moore 

Mr. H. R. Morton 

Mrs. H. R. Morton 

Master Henry Morton 

Miss Louise Morton 

Mr. a. C. Mudge 

Mrs. Frank Naden, Clovis 

Mrs. H. E. Patterson 

Mrs. L. N. Peart 

Master Roscoe Peart 

Mr. a. W. Peters 

Mrs. a. W. Peters 

Master Archibald W. Peters, Jr. 

Master Edwin Peters 

Mr. Bernard Reinold, Madera 

Mrs. Bernard Reinold, Madera 



LAY PILGRIMS — Conlinued 



Mrs. J. G. Rhodes 

Mrs. G. a. Riggins 

Mrs. Susan Roberts 

Mrs. F. E. Robinson 

Mr. C. p. Roche 

Mr. G. a. Roessler 

Mrs. G. a. Roessler 

Miss Julia Randolph Roessler 

Mrs. J. E. Rolkey, San Jose 

Mr. Fred P. Roullard 

Mrs. Fred P. Roullard 

Mr. Joel Roullard 

Mrs. Joel Roullard 

Mrs. Albert M. Rutherford 

Mrs. L. C. Sanford 

Master Royal Sanford 

Miss Jessie Savage, Lindsay 

Mrs. S. R. Scroggins, Selma 

Mr. H. R. Shaw 

Mrs. H. R. Shaw 



Hon. S. L. Strother 

Mrs. S. L. Strother 

Dr. J. F. Summers 

Mrs. G. H. Tayler, Reedley 

Mrs. Montgomery Thomas 

Dr. Roland Tupper 

Mr. Walter G. Uridge 

Mrs. Walter G. Uridge 

Mrs. Bruce Wagner, Hanford 

Mrs. C. N. Wakefield 

Mr. Ben R. Walker 

Master Albert Clark Walker 

Mrs. E. a. Walrond 

Mrs. a. L. Walters, Tulare 

Miss Dorothy Walters, Tulare 

Master Henry Walters, Tulare 

Miss Margaret Walters, Tulare 

Mr. George S. Waterman 

Miss Marion Wheeler 

Mrs. L. a. Winchell 



California 
Pilgrimage 



Two hundred andffty copies of A California Pilgrimage 

have been printed by Bruce Brough at San Francisco 

in the month offune nineteen hundred twenty -one 

No. 



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